


Burden to Bear: Alternate Ending

by yupimgross



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Breaking, Character Death, Child Death, Forced Pregnancy, Gore, Grief/Mourning, Guro, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Rape, Sad, Sexual Abuse, Skeleton Heat, Skeleton Pregnancy, Torture, no happy ending, tradgedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-27 22:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6302107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yupimgross/pseuds/yupimgross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was originally planned as Chapter 9.<br/>Some of you already know this, but this was the original ending before it made me have a change of heart.</p>
<p>THIS IS NOT THE REAL ENDING TO THE FIC.<br/>THIS IS WHAT ALMOST WAS.</p>
<p>Its sad, its cruel, its sickening. Read the tags, and read at your own risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHAT?! I'm not the ONLY sicko making horribly sad shit! Check out this [AMAZING fanart](http://skeleton-hunting-fanatic.tumblr.com/post/141595048841/more-heres-a-scene-from-an-alternate-ending) by [skeleton-hunting-fanatic](http://skeleton-hunting-fanatic.tumblr.com/)

 

 

The slam of a door echoed loudly, startling the skeleton awake.

 

Papyrus winced, terrible pain jolting up his spine and resounding in his skull. Shit, he hurt so much. And his left eye hurt like a bitch. He couldn’t even manifest it. Goddamn, what the fuck happened?

He was suddenly aware of the fact that he was not in a familiar place. He blinked in the darkness, his only working eye casting about, trying to adjust. There was a small amount of light near the far corner of what appeared to be…a garage? Or a backroom, a storage room maybe? Shelves lined the wall, stocked with what looked to be various food items and cans. He could not be certain where he was. The only thing he was certain of was the concrete beneath him, its bitter cold bite sinking into his hips.

Where was he?

 

His skull buzzed, the pain wracking through his bones still making it difficult to concentrate and his memory fuzzy.

He pushed aside the question of where he was for the moment, a greater question rolling through his mind: what had happened?

He felt so tired, so terribly tired. Papyrus was never tired. He hated the feeling, it was a weakness, and it was not indicative to someone of his status. Yet, his bones rattled with each breath, and they ached. Oh, how they ached. It felt like he’d been hit with a truck. Whatever had occurred to make him this weak, he desperately needed to eat or sleep, or something. Fuck. Papyrus was pretty sure he’d never seen his hp so low in his whole life!

He groaned and leaned his skull back against the wall behind him, trying to take a moment to collect himself. His training as a Royal Guard allowed him to settle himself, think things through. Ok, he was in a strange place that he did not know, he was severely hurt, and he was not in any shape to fight.

Alright. Though he had never been in quite so tight a spot, he could certainly figure a way out of this. Even with him rationalizing the situation, and analyzing it with a calm demeanor he felt a dull nagging at his subconscious. Like a tip-of-the-tongue feeling. It nagged at his skull. Something was...off.

The slow beat of his soul drew his attention. It beat slowly, hollowly. As if it struggled to keep him alive. But he knew it was not that weak. Yet it felt strange. Something wasn’t right.

 

Had it always felt so…hollow?

 

His training fell from his thoughts as a rising sense of panic took over.

Something wasn’t right!

 

As he tried to sit up, he felt cold metal bite into his wrists and throat.

“What?” He breathed, his fear taking on a state of panic. He was restrained. Thick, heavy chains attached themselves to the equally sturdy shackles about his frame. They connected to the wall behind him, they looked a bit uneven, a bit make-shift as if they were quickly thrown together.

Someone had not planned on him being held here. But they certainly wanted him contained.

Even with the frenzy of his situation, his soul was alarmingly quiet to him. It seemed to barely live up to its normal thrum. Why did it feel so empty? His eye darted about, as if he might find his answer somewhere in the dark room.

 

Something was missing.

 

The force of the thought made his bones rattle, clinking the chains and restraints about his frame. Something was…missing? What? He tried to bring himself back into focus. What had happened? Why would something be missing-

An awful feeling, so much worse than any pain he’d ever felt, than any other pain he could possibly feel wracked him body and soul.

 

His good eye fell to look at himself. To look at his middle.

Something was missing.

 

 

“No.”

 

 

The soul within him. The soul that he had carried. That he had grown to actually anticipate and dare he say hoped to one-day meet. The soul that he had actually grown to love and hope for and admire, was missing.

Splotches of dust coated his black pants. Stark and horrific, and painfully prominent.

His hands shook, the shackles about his wrists clinking gently as he brought his hands to his middle.

The soul was no more.

 

“No!” He cried out, his voice breaking as his soul wrenched in his chest. As if to make sure, he lifted his shirt, and felt a terrible pain shoot through him. Dust coated his pelvis, his spine, the inside of his pants. “No…” He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. His hands ran through the dust, as if he could somehow piece the unborn child back together.

It was unfair.

A ghostly hand wrapped about his throat, a terrible choking sensation making him swallow. How could this happen? The dust clung to his shaking phalanges. It wasn’t fair. Why? Why was this happening? Why was this allowed to happen? Why did he get to live, and something so pure and innocent and blameless as a child had to die?

The sorrow within him threatened to break him, threatened to make him scream and wail. What a horrible fate. What an awful thing to have to endure.

His child was dead, and he lived.

 

 

Hot tears fell onto his cheek. Whatever cruel and merciless creature felt the need to toy with him so, did not give him rest. At the remembrance of his child, yet more terrible and vivid memories of what he had lost rose up to meet him.

His brother.

His lazy, good for nothing, disgusting, witty, intelligent, strong-willed, and caring brother.

Sans.

How… How could he have forgotten him? Even for the briefest of moments, how could he forget him?

 

The most prominent memories were those of the past couple days, for they had been some of the happiest of his life.

Lying with Sans in bed, the bloomings of what might have actually been feelings for one another beating in their chests. Fear and a great sense of responsibility at seeing the small heart within his middle, and actually feeling a bit excited as well. Musing about having a family for the first time in his life. Wistful ideations of Sans, their child, and him maybe having a chance at happiness…

The past days had brought with them great pain as well.

Sans lying in the snow, covered in scorches. Fear and hope glistening in his brother’s sockets as he came to his rescue. Fighting Grillby with all his strength. Blinding pain as burning claws dug into…

He shut his socket against the painful memories, but they only kept coming. They played over and over in his skull.

He had failed them.

Sans and their unborn child had counted on him. And he had failed them. He grit his teeth against a wail of sorrow as it burned at his throat.

 

 

They were gone.

They were both gone.

He had failed them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He sat there on the cold floor in the dark. Stuck to ponder his actions, and feel the guilt of his inability.

 

His mind was growing dull and placid to the pain, his body no longer bothered him. His aching soul no longer mattered. Papyrus didn’t care what happened to him now.

He didn’t care where he was.

He didn’t care if he was chained.

He didn’t care if he lived to see the light of day.

So long as he did one thing. There was one thing that his broken soul still beat for. One thing that he would keep living for.

So long as he killed Grillby, he would keep fighting.

If he had to claw his way out of fucking hell to find that motherfucker, he would. He would not rest until he found him. He would not stop until his family was avenged. He would die before he let himself break.

 

He would make him pay.

He would make him hurt.

He would make him weep.

He would tear him apart.

He would rip out his soul and make him watch as he crushed it in his palm.

He would try his goddamn hardest to make sure he felt at least a fraction of his pain.

Even then, it would not be enough.

 

 

As if some sort of god or devil had heard his hateful prayers, the door on the far side of the room opened. And there he was. Violet flame cast dancing shadows along the walls, the display eerie and hellish.

The fire monster had the gull to grin at him, before he spoke. “You awake? Good.”

Papyrus said nothing, he watched as the creature closed the door and walked over to him, eyeing him up in down in what could only be delight.

He would have felt disgust at the look, but it was hard to feel anything anymore.

All that lingered in his dead soul was hate.

Hate for him alone.

 

 

Grillby kneeled down in front of him, his broken glasses glinting from his flame. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to pull through there.” He reached forward, and pressed a hand to the ruined side of Papyrus’ face. “You seem to have healed pretty well-”

Papyrus turned abruptly and bit down on his hand.

The room became blindingly bright as the fire monster screamed in startled pain. The skeleton sunk his teeth in harder, not caring that his skull and tongue were being singed horrifically. He was going to bite the motherfucker’s goddamn hand off. The taste of burning magic was acrid and painful, mixing with his own tongue and burning his mouth. He did not care. He grabbed Grillby about the throat with his hands.

He was going to snuff out the asshole’s flame.

 

 

He would have fucking ripped his hand off, he would have fucking choked the life from him, if Grillby didn’t play dirty.

A dark cloth was thrown over his skull, a fine powder hitting him full in the face.

Papyrus released his victim as he coughed, shaking his head in his restraints. The cloth fell away and landed in a heap in his lap.

His eye went wide in horror.

 

 

Sans’ jacket.

 

 

A blazing fist smashed into the broken side of his face, making him scream from new pain as his skull split further, threatening to shatter completely.

Though his vision warped and swam from the hit, he focused on the jacket in his lap. Shaking hands grasped at the familiar coat, gently taking it, as if he might tarnish it. His mouth scorched and charred, his voice came out as a distorted whisper, “Sans…”

Grillby coughed out a laugh as he cradled his injured hand close to his chest. “That runt had it coming.” He shook his head and examined his hand with a pained drawn breath through his mouth. “Do you even know how much his fucking tab was?”

Papyrus could only stare at the jacket in his hands. Dust covered his jacket, its owner living on as a messy gray powder.

So preoccupied with his brother’s demise, he did not notice that Grillby had quickly grabbed the chains behind him and pulled them tight. His hands slammed back against the wall, deterring any hope of attack. Grillby took no notice of Papyrus’ apparent pain as he continued, “You know what? It doesn’t even matter. He finally got what he deserved.”

Papyrus’ hands shook horrifically in their restraints, his eye distant. He could still feel Sans’ dust on his hands. The skeleton broke from his daze as Grillby walked over to a nearby shelf and pulled something off of it. He chuckled over at him, “Hah hah. Fuck, you always were a tough monster, huh? I guess I should have expected you wouldn’t give up so easy.” Coming back over, he knelt before him, a strap of leather in his grasp.

Papyrus struggled as the flame monster tried to shove it into his mouth. He turned and flailed, but the pressing body in front of him, and the restraints about him did not let him escape. The bitter taste of leather met his tongue, as the harsh material held his jaw back painfully.

He growled around the item, glaring fiercely at the spiteful demon that was Grillby.

The hand that he had bitten took its place on his cheek again, a wide grin breaking across the fire monster’s face as Papyrus was unable to do anything in rebuttal. “That’s better.” He cooed, and brushed a burning thumb across one of the new cracks he had made in his face.

Harsh breathing resounded through his nasal aperture as he tried to contain a scream. God, it hurt. Everything hurt. He looked over to the jacket on the floor again, and couldn’t help himself. His sorrow finally broke through as a keening sob, a pathetic sound that the closeness of the room made into a mocking echo.

Grillby shushed him and lighted a fiery hand onto the other side of his skull, a mimicry of tenderness in his voice. “Aw, don’t be like that, Pap.” The fire monster winced slightly as a stray tear sizzled against his fingers. “I’m not going to make you go unfulfilled. You’re better off with me, anyways.”

Papyrus squeezed his eye shut and tried to turn away as the heat grew hotter against his face. His very soul recoiled as Grillby leaned in and placed a kiss to his teeth. Pure disgust and hate flowed through him.

Uncaring of the pain, he broke his wrist in his restraint as he flicked his hand, calling forth a bone attack.

Grillby screamed against his mouth and fell backwards. His fire burned haphazardly, licking out at the air as he writhed in pain. He stared at Papyrus in shock as he clutched at his middle. Magma-like magic pooled onto the floor thickly at his feet. “Y-you motherfucker!” He screeched at Papyrus.

 

 

His vision fading from the drain of magic, Papyrus grinned around the strap in his mouth.

Fuck you, Grillby.

He drifted out, his soul going dark in his ribcage.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He woke up.

He was awake.

He was alive.

 

He struggled in his bonds. He couldn’t be alive. He _shouldn’t_ be alive. No! He screamed around the gag in his mouth, pain shooting up from his limbs. As he struggled, he suddenly felt a small shred of hope. Grillby had neglected to restrain him against the wall. Arms clanging in their restraints, he rejoiced that he had much more give in his captivity now. Maybe he could move! Wriggling to his hands and knees-

 

 

A sharp cry broke from him and he fell onto his side, coiling into himself as pain shot up from his wrists…

H-his hands.

His hands were gone. What he saw before him were mere stumps of his wrists, wrapped in bandage to prevent him from dying of magic loss.

No.

Curling into himself further, he tried to wrap his mind around it. He tried to bring himself back from the edge of panic. He tried to hold his face-

Laughing at his idiocy, he found that he had made the error of slipping into hysteria. His choked rumbles of laughter seemed endless. He was caught in a loop. He could not stop.

He scraped his stumps at his face, trying to stop himself from losing it, from losing everything. His sanity was all he had left. He couldn’t give in. He couldn’t give up.

His eye darted to Sans’ jacket, and found that he had managed to bring himself closer to where it lay in his haste. He crawled forward, ignoring the pain in his bones. Sans…

 

It lie just beyond his reach, achingly close. But he couldn’t manage it.

It was _out of his hands_ , heh heh.

 

Papyrus thrashed upon the floor as he tried to grasp at his face. He screamed, trying to block out the sound of Sans’ imagined voice and laughter in his skull. He recoiled away from the jacket instantly, as if it were some venomous creature.

Oh fuck, he was losing it. No, he can’t. Whatever cruelness this was, h-he needed to keep going. He needed to avenge them. R-right? That’s what they would have wanted.

His weak soul fluttered painfully in his chest. He felt so sick. The marrow in his bones made him want to just crawl into a hole and die.

This was too much. It was too much for him.

The pain was terrible, his soul ached from loss and sorrow, he was so weak and weary.

Slithering back over to the wall that held his chains, he let himself slip into sleep, praying that he would have no dreams.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

How long had he been here?

He wasn’t sure anymore.

He lie on the ground, blankly staring at the dark wall, his eye trailing along the chains that lie embedded there. It was all he could do, because he dare not turn around. The jacket was still behind him. And he couldn’t bear to look at it. If he looked at it, he felt fear. If he looked at it, he could hear a snide voice joking and laughing. It made him hurt, it made him feel sad, it made him feel a terrible guilt that he didn’t want to explore.

He’d rather forget it completely.

 

 

Instead, he wrapped his arms about his middle, desperately trying to hold onto the memory of the little movements that were no longer there. The small thrums and hums from the soul that he missed so much. It was becoming hard to hold those thoughts. He had accidentally wiped all the dust away from his pants once long ago in a frenzied rage. He sighed to himself. Why had he gotten so worked up? All it did was make him feel worse.

Besides, sometimes, he wasn’t sure if his memories were even correct. Sometimes he thought that maybe he had just imagined the whole thing.

Thoughts like that made him sad. Though he guessed it was better than feeling nothing. Than being blank and empty. That was why crying sort of became a new hobby of sorts for him. He knew it was demeaning and silly, but it kept him from losing himself.

Though its not like it mattered. He was lost already, he guessed.

 

 

The old him, The Great Papyrus, was gone. He had mourned his passing already, it no longer bothered him. He had washed his hands of him. The Great Papyrus would not have let something so terrible befall him. He would not have given up. He would have fought until his last breath. He certainly would have died for his family, and certainly would have made sure to keep them alive somehow.

Whatever the battered skeleton on the cold, concrete floor was, it was not him.

 

 

The skeleton couldn’t even escape into unconsciousness. The cold of the place in which he survived had sucked the life out of him long ago and made him rattle in his need to keep alive. His mind could not settle as his bones shivered, clanking his chains and making it impossible to sleep.

Though he knew sleep would be terrible anyways. If he slept, he dreamt.

And he’d rather not do that. His thoughts were enough as it was.

 

 

He heard the door creak open.

 

He felt a slight stirring in his ribcage. A warmth that was both glad and also angry. Though he wasn’t sure why he’d be mad. It had been a very long time since Grillby had come to see him. And his visits were always positive.

 

Violet fire lit the wall he stared at, and he felt a warm hand grip his shoulder and shake gently to see if he was awake. Of course he was. He never slept. He just wanted to feel his touch. He clung onto and tried to obtain any semblance of touch he could. Just because of the fact that it was something outside himself, and it was real, and it was in contact with him. It reminded him that something else was alive and breathing in this dark and death-filled place...it was comforting.

He didn’t fight as he was moved about. He was sat up, his body made to lean against the wall. He didn’t mind, he was content to remain focused on the warmth lighting his bones. He was so cold. Everything was cold. His bones, his _soul._ The warmth felt good. Fuck, it was more than good. He wished he could curl up in it and fall asleep. He just wanted to sleep forever in the basking warmth that the other monster provided.

 

 

Grillby smiled down at him, running his hand along the damaged part of his skull as he always did. “You look so much better today, Pap!”

The skeleton smiled back, enjoying the warm touch upon his face, even if it stung a little. God, it’d been so long since he’d heard a voice other than the prankster one. And unlike the other voice, Grillby’s voice didn’t bring pain. Only anger, which was certainly misplaced, and he was able to bite it back.

Grillby leaned in and placed a gentle kiss upon his teeth, and the skeleton felt his soul warm and brighten in his chest. It was dizzying, really. He hadn’t felt something so strongly in…well, he couldn’t really recall. It was a long time, though.

A very long time.

The fire monster pulled away and looked at the dim glow in the skeleton’s chest with an approving grin and a laugh. “Hah! Look at you, Pap!” The hand upon his face trailed down his neck, making his bones shiver from the unexpected, yet pleasing touch. It felt good and he stretched his neck to try and let him have more room. A small whimper squeaked past his teeth in annoyance. He wished the collar wasn’t in the way. Grillby noticed his compliance, and made a satisfying sound in his throat. “I was wondering if you’d ever enter heat again!” The praise was nice, well it sounded like praise anyways, and he wanted more of it. It made his freezing soul grow warm, not as warm as the hand touching him, but it was still a good sensation. A sound reverberated in his chest as the blazing hand moved to run down the front of his sweater, caressing his sternum beneath. “You’re so good. I’m glad I didn’t give up on you.”

 

 

Was he planning on giving up on him? The previous warmness hurt his tender soul, sucking his breath away. He couldn’t bear it. It was similar to another feeling, one that he was well-acquainted with: loneliness. The soul in his chest fluttered painful, as if testament to how weak and horrible and wrenching being alone truly was.

He couldn’t bear it!

Grillby, don’t leave me alone! He wished to scream, he wished to beg him to stay. His breathing came harsh and erratic. No! He can’t be alone any more. It hurt. It was killing him. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t anymore. Please, don’t leave him alone. He would do anything.

Seeing that he had caused the skeleton to become panicked, Grillby quickly reassured him, “Oh, I wouldn’t give up on you! You know that, right?” He placed another kiss to his mouth, and the skeleton sighed happily. “It just took a…lot longer than I thought. Hah hah, you really are a tough monster, you know!”

 

He smiled softly at the fire monster and relaxed. How nice of him to say such things, though he knew he wasn’t strong. Maybe The Great Papyrus was strong, but not him. Still, he supposed a compliment was a compliment, even if it wasn’t true.

Another moan broke around the strap in his mouth as Grillby ran his hand lower. It ran under his sweater, dancing across his spine and pelvis. “And you’re mine now. Aren’t you?”

The skeleton nodded, sinking into the touch. Oh, he hadn’t had this feeling in…well, had he? He briefly thought he remembered something. Something involving another monster….

 

Red, glowing eyes full of desire, watched him from the darkness on the other side of the room. A permanent grin etched into the skull that housed them, and a gold tooth glinted in the light.

A voice broke through his head, damningly real and sharp.

“don’t worry. i’m gonna make ya feel good, Pap.”

 

 

He stiffened and screamed, his eye darting over to the jacket a few feet away. It was the source of these terrifying imaginings. It was the source of his pain. He huddled closer to Grillby, hoping he would protect him from the ghost that afflicted him. The monster wrapped an arm about his shoulders, comforting him with his natural warmth. After a few moments, he settled down into a weak whimper. His soul dimmed from the strain as deep stabbing pain ripped through its delicate magic.

 

Grillby frowned at the shaking skeleton curled up against his middle and turned to look at what had caused him so much distress. He looked at the jacket and then back at him. “Is that bothering you?” He raised a brow, concern on his face, but his tone sounded oddly amused. “The jacket?”

The skeleton nodded quickly as he held his gaze, hoping that maybe the fire monster could help him. Help stop the voice from bothering him. Help get rid of the terrible unexplainable pain that the jacket brought him.

 

To his horror, Grillby left him and went over and actually _touched it._ He shivered at the thought, afraid to even look at the thing, much less grab it, and pick it up, and carry it over to him-

He flinched away as Grillby brought it in close to his face. Tears fell from his socket and he turned away. Please, stop! G-get it away! He wanted to scream. Shuffling away as best he could with the stubs of his arms, he curled up against the wall. Flattening himself, he tried as best as he could to disappear against its cool, dark surface. The smell of the jacket had hit him, and he scrunched his eye shut tight to try to block out the voice of a monster he didn’t know ringing in his skull.

“y-you ok, bro?”

The marrow in his bones felt like tar. His whined pitifully. Why couldn’t the voice leave him be?

“calm down. i’m not gonna hurt ya.”

He didn’t believe it. He knew he couldn’t. The voice always brought pain. That voice that the jacket belonged to always made him hurt. It was awful.

 

 

He held himself tightly as he buried his face into his knees, wishing he could shrink from Grillby, hurt that he would make him feel pain this way.

“Pap, its ok!”

Cautiously, he let himself ease from his tight curl. He soon felt much better as he saw what Grilly had called him for. Grillby watched him with a soft smile as he let the infernal jacket catch fire in his hand. Though he had been nervous of Grillby’s seemingly cruel intentions…he must have just been trying to help. He must have not realized the jacket made him feel so bad!

The skeleton forgave him. A whistling sigh of relief left his nasal aperture as the jacket burned away, the voice that haunted it leaving him at peace.

Guilt lifted from his soul as the clothing burned away into nothingness.

He could finally forget.

 

 

Grillby looked very proud as he let the ashes fall from his palm onto the floor. “Look at you,” The skeleton’s soul was cast alight once again under his approving gaze. “You’ve come a long way, Pap.” The violet monster gently pried him out of his defensive curl, grabbed him by the hips, and scooted him down so that he lie on the floor.

His soul raced as the other monster crawled over him, his body hot against his freezing bones. He was quick to accept the kindness. As best as he could, he wrapped himself about the other body, taking in the heat with a content sigh. He nuzzled himself into the crook of his neck, the slight pain of the fire not quite so bad anymore. Trying to rid himself of the jacket’s smell, he took in his scent. Grillby smelled nice, like always. A mix of sickly sweet propane and a crackling fireplace. It was the smell of comfort, and the only one that eased him from the pain, cold, and isolation. The skeleton wished he could stay like this forever. Warm and in his company.

To his surprise, he felt the other reach behind his skull and remove the strap in his jaw.

Pulling away, he blinked, and for a moment, wasn’t sure what to do with his mouth. It had been stuck open for so long with the strip of leather, he didn’t know how he was supposed to work it. His teeth clicked experimentally, the tongue in his mouth licking about with reckless abandon.

 

He’d soon find out what his mouth was for.

 

The fire monster straddled his chest, careful of his brittle bones. Grillby placed his hand on his broken skull, and the skeleton leaned into the touch. He loved it when he did that. It was comforting and familiar, something that Grillby did all the time. It was the only ritual that he looked forward to. The warmth trailed down, running along his cheekbone, tracing his jaw. The skeleton watched him dully, absorbing the tender affection, trying to memorize it. It would be of great comfort to remember this time when he was left alone in the dark.

He suddenly noticed Grillby undoing his pants.

The hand on his jaw became a bit rougher. Fingers pushed into his mouth a little harsher than he’s like. The unexpected digits shoved themselves into his cavity, ignoring his surprised tongue and pressing onwards to his throat. He gagged, and shifted with a whine from the force of the intrusion.

 

Grillby frowned down at him. “Be good, Pap.”

He wanted to! He did! Squeezing his eye shut, he tried to calm down. The digits in his mouth toyed with his tongue, and he wrapped them in his long length, toying right back. He cast his eye up and felt his soul spark with glee.

Grillby looked satisfied. In fact, probably a little more than satisfied. His eye shifted down to the other’s lap on his chest. A heat had grown there, extremely noticeable to his chilled bones. The fire monster chuckled, and reached in his pants to pull out his cock. “It’s for you, Pap.” A grin that was a bit unnerving stretched across Grillby’s face.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to-

The hand in his mouth forced his jaw open, while the other wrapped around the back of his skull. He choked out a sound of surprise as the burning appendage was roughly driven into his mouth. Though it was rough and it hurt him, and he didn’t like it, the skeleton wanted to be good for him…or else he’d be left alone.

He snaked his long tongue about the appendage, wincing as the fire blistered his magic. Wrapping it about his length he squeezed and tugged as it shoved into his waiting mouth. Grillby moaned above him and gripped his skull tighter. “Fuck, Pap! Keep sucking that cock!” He growled as he picked up his pace, and the skeleton tried his best to ignore the pain. Tears welled up in his socket, shit, it was terrible. The fire monster was too big, his jaw was forced painfully wide and with him being so unused to using it, it made things only worse. Gagging hard, he struggled vehemently as the cock was shoved further into his throat, scraping the back of his vertebrae.

Grillby panted and suddenly pulled himself out, and came all over his skull.

 

A scream broke from his teeth as the lava-like cum hit his wounds. His vision sparked with stars as it dribbled into his ruined socket, blinding and excruciating as it found its way into his skull. Writhing on the floor, he tried to get a hold of himself.

If he didn’t be good Grillby would leave him!

Panting with the effort, he blinked the stars away and smiled weakly up at the fire monster. His blistered and hurt tongue made it difficult, but he managed to more or less stammer, “I-I’m…s-sorry.”

The fire monster got up off his chest, and blessed him with the warmth of his body again. He sighed as Grillby wiped away the mess on his face, his eyes watching him from behind his glasses. “Next time, do better.”

He nodded quickly, fear making his soul flutter. He would! He would make sure of it!

 

Delighted with his response, he pulled his mouth to his, and ran a hot tongue into his mouth. Though sore from the brutal fucking, the skeleton was content. These touches were warm and much more pleasant, and his tongue was quick to curl about the other. He suckled on the other’s tongue, drawing him into the kiss further. It made his soul beat with gracious pleasure, and god if he didn’t get enough of that.

Before long, they were panting into each other’s mouths, bodies pressed flush. Grillby ground his blazing hot hips into his own, and he moaned. It felt so wonderful. His bones and soul craved this so much it hurt, but in a good way.

The fire monster laughed into his mouth, and pulled away. His tongue still unused to speaking, he slurred out a simple, “What?” He wanted to keep going…

 

He gasped as his sweater was torn up the middle with a satisfying rip. Grillby tore it from his body, and then made short work of his pants. The skeleton felt the chill of the room all the stronger, his teeth chattering at the loss of heat. “Please, I-I’m c-cold.” He stammered, reaching out to Grillby with the stubs of his arms. He needed his heat.

The fire monster groaned and placed a quick kiss to his forehead, briefly enveloping him in blessed heat, before he pulled away again. “Just a moment, Pap. You’ll be warm soon.” He chuckled as he got up from his kneel. He took off his glasses and set them on a nearby shelf. He tugged off his tie and shirt, and threw them aside.

All the while, the skeleton watched. His soul beat in his chest, crying out for the other with an intense ferocity. As the other pulled his fiery shaft from his pants, he groaned heavily. While he didn’t like the appendage in his mouth, it offered a new potential for deeper, stronger warmth. The sight made his freezing soul shiver with want. He could practically feel the other’s heat already.

 

 

Grillby looked very pleased with his reaction.

He flashed him a hot grin and stroked his hand along his length, bringing it back at the ready, and displaying its lovely curve to him.

Naked and completely exposed to the surrounding chill, he shivered as the cold around him began to settle into his bones fiercely. “G-Grillby, I’m s-so c-cold.” He whispered through his rattling, hoping that the fire monster might hurry to embrace him and warm him.

The fire monster’s flames grew in response to his needy begging, and he finally, finally came back over to him. He crouched at his feet, and looked over him with interest. His eyes focusing on his lightly glowing pelvis. The skeleton gasped as the other leaned forward and ran his hot tongue along the arch. His mind went blank from the pleasure, so unused to anything so warm and so good. He moaned and shifted his hips, slowly humping into the other’s exploring tongue. Before long, he felt his soul gain strength and grow hotter. The magic in his pelvis began to settle and form.

Grillby made an approving sound as a red cock took form and stood proudly from between his legs. “You’re so pretty, Pap.” He cooed as he wrapped a hand about his length.

“Ahn…” He moaned from the touch. Fuck, he felt like his soul might explode. This was amazing. The blazing hand stroked him gently, teasingly. It was not enough friction, but he was happy to receive anything. “Mmn…”

 

 

He gasped as he felt his hips lifted up.

The other monster let go of his member as he brought his hips to settle in his lap.

“N-nyeh!” He cried out as the other shoved himself inside his pelvic cavity roughly. Panting harshly and whining pitifully from the pain, he struggled as the other rammed himself into his unprepared entrance. “S-stop! Grillby, please!” He screamed and tried to grasp at the other, but of course it was fruitless without hands.

“Relax, Pap, and it won’t hurt so much!” Grillby growled as he continued his onslaught, breath heavy as he gripped him roughly by the waist.

The skeleton bit back more cries and tried to relax. The pain did not stop until what seemed like forever. Finally, he felt the rawness start to subside, and he welcomed the pleasure that took its place. Grillby fucked him deeply, his burning hot cock and precum coating the inside of his pelvis and dripping onto his sacrum. The magma hurt, but it was better than the cold. The chill in his bones was far worse than anything. He wrapped his legs about his back and tried to pull him closer, tried to receive more of the monster’s warmth.

Grillby was kind and heeded his need.

He fell forward and splayed himself over the skeleton, driving into him and letting his flaming body lick at his bones. “Grillby.” He moaned against his cheek, wrapping his stumps about his neck as best he could.

The fire monster picked up his pace, smoke trailing from his mouth as he growled lowly at his throat, “Say my name again.”

The skeleton was awash with pleasure, his soul beaming with a light it hadn’t known in ages. “G-Grillby!” He cried out obediently, earning him a pleasurably hot nip at his throat. “F-fuck! Grillby, hah-ah!

 

 

A hand ran into his chest and grasped his soul.

The skeleton screamed and bucked hard, his cock twitching with need as he sought friction against the body above him.

The fire monster pulled the soul from his ribcage, and crushed it to his chest. “Shit, Pap!” He groaned as he continued to plow the body below him, the magic of his soul tightening around him and straining with pleasure.

 

With a final scream, the skeleton came. His magic squeezed around the length inside him, milking the other until hot cum splattered across his bones. His cock released his own seed, sizzling and burning away as it met the fire monster’s flames. His soul burst in a huge and sudden flow of magic, gripping onto the soul of the fire monster in its excitement.

A new pleasure wrapped himself in its grasp.

A fiery hot soul engulfed his own, all but devouring him as he was filled with its owner’s essence. His breath caught in his throat. It was hot, too hot. He was actually hot. He panted and squirmed, his soul felt like it was burning. Luckily the moment did not last long. The lights of their souls mingled for only a short time, before they finally separated. Though his burnt soul returned alone, there was a deep feeling of fullness that came along with it. He felt tired. Now that he was warm, and there was no shivering or voices to keep him awake, he let himself slip into sleep for the first time in a long time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Papyrus looked at himself in the mirror. He sat near the edge of the bed. As far as his collar would allow him.

 

Red-lined sockets, brittle malnourished bones, and a broken and shattered body were what he saw in its surface. This was a creature that had been through hell, and come back out.

Though he wished that he hadn’t.

 

The things that he had let himself fall into doing…it was unforgiveable. Not like he could do anything now. He had given up on Sans. He had given up on the soul. He had given up on his only family.

 

Grillby would never be his family. Even if he liked to act like it.

 

After he had gotten Papyrus pregnant, he had brought him to his own home, fed him, revitalized him.

He still wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that he had regained his mind. At first, he had thought it was a good thing. He had tried to finally avenge his murdered family and kill him…but that had only made things worse for him.

Papyrus blankly looked over himself. His arms had been trimmed back further, for he had tried to strangle Grillby with his elbows. His legs had been cut off above the knees, yeah, of course he’d tried kicking too. He had hurt Grillby somewhat badly at least. The monster walked now with a permanent limp to his step, a swift kick at just the right angle ruining whatever it was he was made of.

 

The only thing Grillby left alone was his mouth. He knew he’d try to bite, so he would use a special restraint for him. Grillby liked fucking his face too much to ruin his jaw. It hurt him, and it always managed to make him squirm and cry. He hated it. He hated him so much. Grillby was a sick fuck, and doing things that made Papyrus fall into a pit of despair afterward was his favorite pastime.

Kind of like with the mirror. Papyrus hated seeing himself, and Grillby knew it. He had put the absurdly large mirror there, at the foot of the bed.

He hated it not because it reminded him of how pitiful he was. Though it did a good job of it.  
He hated it because Grillby had put it there so he could watch. He could watch the bastard child that he carried grow by the day. The child that wasn’t his by choice.

The child that shouldn’t have been the one to live.

 

 

A spiking pain made him groan, and he let himself sink onto his side. The contractions were getting fiercer by the day. He couldn’t even comfort his pain by rubbing himself, or get up to get something to drink, or even grab a pillow.

Grillby didn’t care about shit like that.

 

 

In a matter of days, he’d get what he wanted.

And Papyrus could finally die

 

 

* * *

 

 

He screamed.

God it hurt!

 

Huffing and panting, he tried to keep calm, he tried to focus. “Ahh-!” He scrunched his eye shut tight, the contraction was like electric up his spine, shooting straight to his soul. Tears streamed down his face. It didn’t matter if Grillby saw him cry. He had seen it plenty of times by now.

The bastard stood just watching at the foot of the bed, his gaze intense.

Papyrus had gone into labor what seemed like days ago.

 

 

Another scream tore through his throat as he writhed on the bed. His chest heaved with the effort of breathing. It was so horrible. Oh, it was so terribly horrible!

His soul felt like it was being torn apart.

The red strand which he had noticed connecting his own soul to the womb at his middle beamed brightly in his chest. It seemed to claw at his soul, raking magic from his very essence piece by piece. “GAH!” A screeching keen forced its way through him with a spasming shake. His throat was raw from his cries, but he could not hold them back. The pain was too much.

He rolled onto his back and it hurt, he rolled onto his side and it hurt, he tried to sit up and it hurt.

All the while, Grillby only watched, his violet flame lighting the scene with a surreal cast.

“I h-hate you.” Papyrus growled through his teeth. He hated him. He hated him for Sans, he hated him for their unborn child, he hated him for doing this to him.

 

 

There was a large, stabbing pain in his soul, and an alarming feeling of strain.

 

 

And then there was a snap.

A great wetness coated hin as magic siphoned from his bones in a terrible rush, draining away with enough force to make him seize.

His vision blanked and his skull rang as he felt his hp go down.

5 hp.

4 hp.

3 hp.

 

The sound of a newborn’s wails brought him back to consciousness.

2 hp.

 

His eye focused, a blurry image of a bundle of fiery bones cradled in the arms of his father.

1 hp.

 

He took it back!

He didn’t want to die!

He wanted to stay!

He wanted to hold the child.

He hadn’t wanted them, but they were still his.

They were what could have been, from before. He could raise them as if they were his real child. He could still love them. He could learn to love them.

Even if he hadn’t wanted them before, it was not their fault! He realized that now. Please, they were still his.

They were still his!

 

0 hp.

 

 

Papyrus caught sight of the little baby’s eyes, a lovely shade of red, just like his own.

His bones crumbled to dust under their soft gaze.

The father that the child would never know fell into dust.

They would never know him.

They would never know Papyrus.

 

 


	2. Thoroughly Broken - Ch.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would have happened if Papyrus had not regained himself?
> 
>  
> 
> Takes place after:  
> "Though his burnt soul returned alone, there was a deep feeling of fullness that came along with it. He felt tired. Now that he was warm, and there was no shivering or voices to keep him awake, he let himself slip into sleep for the first time in a long time."

 

 

The skeleton blinked in and out of tired consciousness. 

 

 

He rested his skull against Grillby's warm shoulder. The arms wrapped about his frail frame were strong and held him close. The gentle movements as he carried him made sleep irresistible. 

But he also wanted to keep awake.

 

For the first time in what must have been ages, he was outside.

 

 

He nuzzled further against the other's chest at the familiar cool air.

Maybe The Great Papyrus would have rejoiced at being outside and free. Would have loved the feeling of the snowy air billowing against his skull and whipping his tattered scarf...

 

But the skeleton hated the cold.

He didn't want to leave Grillby's side even for a second while he carried him. His eye wide with slight fear at the surrounding snow. Grillby could drop him and leave him to freeze if he so wanted. The skeleton couldn't handle it. He knew he couldn't. He couldn't take the cold anymore. Not to mention the pain of being rejected and left alone.

He needed to make sure Grillby knew that the skeleton was appreciative.

 

"I l-love you, Grillby."

The words were hard to say. The sound a bit choked, but he needed to say them. He needed Grillby. And what was love other than needing someone anyways?

Without Grillby he would die.

So, he loved him.

Simple as that.

 

 

Grillby looked down at him in surprise. His eyes growing wide behind his glasses. Violet flame flashed brightly against the surrounding darkness from his shock before dying down into a thoughtful smolder.

A smile crossed his face.

 

Not his usual, somewhat harsh grin, but something a bit softer. The skeleton felt his soul give a small flutter at it, the feeling akin to receiving his praise.

 

"...good, Pap." The arms about him pulled him tighter, bringing their souls closer.

His weak soul drew strength from the other’s burning heart. It was blissfully hot, and it made his magic stir in his chest.

 

The moment did not last long. The wintery wind howled, and whistled as it cut through his bones. The skeleton wrapped his arms around the fire monster's neck with a whimper, desperate to keep away the chill.

While Grillby had his clothes, the skeleton was still exposed to the elements. His teeth chattered and bones rattled despite the heat of the other.

 

 

Thankfully, they had arrived at their destination.

"Here we are." Grillby stated simply. He shifted the skeleton's weight and maneuvered keys from his pocket to unlock the house before them.

The skeleton had not known this was Grillby's home. Small, and cookie-cutter resemblance to the other homes of Snowdin. Dark, dingy, and slightly roughed, it certainly was impossible to tell it apart from any of the other homes. 

He shivered lamely against his chest, and once Grillby managed to open the door and get them in out of the cold he sighed in relief.

The house was very warm, almost hot.

Good.

 

 

After locking the door and throwing his keys on a nearby table, Grillby carried him down a nearby hall, through a door, and into a bedroom.

The fire monster put him on the bed, and called over his shoulder as he headed to the door, "I'll be back in a bit." And then left him.

Grillby went out the door and closed it shut behind him, leaving the skeleton in darkness.

 

 

He hated darkness.

He hated being cold.

He hated being alone.

 

 

Shivering at the sudden loss of heat, he thought of getting under the blankets, but he didn't dare. He didn't want to make Grillby upset! He curled in on himself, wrapping his arms about his middle.

At least it wasn't as bad here as when he was at Grillby's.

 

He'd finally found out where he had been for that terribly long time.

He'd been at Grillby's...in the fridge. He had wondered many times why he was surrounded by food as he lie on the floor.

That was quite unsanitary if he did say so himself! Having a monster living amongst the food! How disgusting!

Good thing he didn't eat at Grillby's. Unlike some people-

 

 

 

He blinked. Some people? Who did he know that ate at Grillby's?

In fact, did he know anyone besides Grillby?

 

The skeleton couldn't recall. The Great Papyrus might have known some people, might have had a life of his own, might have had hopes and dreams...

Not him.

 

He was happy as he was.

So long as he was warm, comfortable, and could be with Grillby, anyways.

He was easy to please.

 

 

The door opened and the skeleton all but shot to attention. He smiled at the fire monster, hoping he could see how much he missed him. Maybe he wouldn't leave him again if he was good-

A smell hit his nasal aperture.

Equal parts hungry and nauseous, he curiously looked over what Grillby held in his hand as he sat beside him on the bed.

 

"Come here, Pap." He said as he stirred something within a small bowl.

The skeleton obeyed, and scooted close to him. 

"Open." He lifted the spoon from the bowl and brought it to his teeth.

 

The skeleton didn't know what it was, but he did as he was told. Slightly scared, he shook gently as the substance was placed in his mouth for him to eat.

 

His body took over the rest of the way. A mildly sweet, grainy, sticky substance coated his mouth as he ate the meal. Oatmeal, to be exact. The instantaneous flow of magic to his bones was a shock. He winced at the sudden spike.

It actually hurt.

 

Grillby placed a hand to his ruined face and gently brushed his thumb across his cheekbone. He knew he liked it when he touched him like that. And the feeling helped guide him back from the pain. The fire monster whispered softly, "Just a few more bites, Pap."

 

He didn't think he could do it.

His teeth chattered and soul shivered as he brought the spoon back up to him. Closing his socket, he quickly took the offered food and swallowed it without tasting. He accepted the next bite and the next.

 

That was all he could handle.

 

His bones felt like they were splintering, so unused to there being so much magic. His soul hummed, regaining its strength. It thumped in his chest, working hard to bring his hp back from the brink.

The magic threatened to break him, it's overflow tickling at his throat.

But he swallowed the feeling down.

 

Grillby looked pleased.

He smiled at him, and to his surprise, grabbed his stumps in his hands and gently rubbed them. The skeleton focused on the kind motion. His arms often hurt him. He sighed, and allowed himself to drift off from the warm movements at his wrists.

 

 

Soon, his body absorbed the magic, and adjusted to the new level of hp. While not fully healed, it was all he could handle for now. He felt good. Very good. He felt better than he had felt in a long time. But he was also tired. Very tired.

 

 

Grillby got up off the bed, and the skeleton panicked.

He wrapped his arms about the other's waist and pleaded to him, "Don't go..." He sounded pitiful. But, then again, he was pitiful. So it didn't really matter, did it?

 

The violet flame died down, and for a second, the skeleton thought he had done something wrong. Grillby frowned down at him, he looked upset! Oh no! Oh no!

He released him instantly, drawing his arms back to himself. “I’m sorry, Grillby.”

The sound of clinking dishes made him look up. Grillby had set the bowl on a nearby dresser, and before he could get his wits about what was going on, the monster was upon him.

 

He yelped in fear as the monster crouched over him. The skeleton covered his face, afraid that his fractured skull might finally be shattered for his trespass.

His arms were pulled to the side, and…a kiss was placed upon his teeth.

“What a good creature you are.” Words whispered against his teeth. “Such a good creature indeed. A good, pet.”

 

Pet?

 

The other left no room for him to ponder the word. He sighed against the other as his hands roamed about his bones, light touches sending shivers up his spine. A groan lolled from his teeth as his spine was given special attention. Slow, and purposeful, he swore it was the best thing in the world. “Ah…Grillby…”

 

The fire monster licked at his throat, and he let him devour his vertebrae with nips and licks.

He growled against his throat, “You’re my little Pet, aren’t you?” Grasping his jaw, he brought him round to look him in the eye. “Your name is Pet, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” The skeleton known as Pet replied, his mind going foggy from the wonderful sensations.

Pet. His name was Pet. The skeleton had a name.

Grillby bit into his collar, drawing out a long moan from his prize. Licking the tiny droplets of marrow away, his chest rumbled as he spoke against his jaw. “Say your name. Say you’re mine.”

Swallowing down the small scrap of pride he somehow still had left in him, he choked, “I-I’m yours, Grillby. I’m your...Pet.”

Grillby kissed him deeply, possessively.

 

Pet could hardly keep himself together as he gave him such attentions. The magic that he had gained from the food warped through his bones like lightning, both painful and pleasurable. Every touch sent sparks to his soul, he could feel every breath, every swish of clothing, the blankets bunching beneath his bones…

“AHN!” He cried out loudly, almost a scream as he felt his magic form. It was dizzying. It was unbelievable sensitive. As Grillby pulled back to look at him, he felt fear. He was too sensitive. Pet could feel the pulse of his soul through his magic, it hurt terribly.

He was a wreck, and Grillby knew it.

His hips jerked and his whole frame shook as Grillby ran his index finger along the slit. “HAH! AH! G-GOD!” Even that little bit of contact was enough to set him aflame. This was awful! Oh, god, but it was amazing as well.

Panting and squirming on the sheets, cock twitching harshly, Pet’s body begged Grillby for more.

“What do you want, Pet?” Grillby grinned down at him, a hand rubbing at the crook of his own pants. A bulge having grown from the sounds the skeleton made for him.

 

 

Oh, fuck, he needed him.

“I want you!” He cried out as the magic in his body blazed. Unused to holding so much magic, his body could not handle it. Thus, it concentrated brightly in a single aroused place. With Grillby making no move to help him, he used the stubs of his arms and tried to grasp at himself. He needed to get friction, his need to be finished mind-boggling.

Cruelly, Grillby pinned his arms.

His hips shifted and bucked, but Grillby kept himself well away, denying him such bliss.

 

“Grillby, please!”

Oh god, please don’t do this to him. Shit!

Grillby watched him struggle with his mean smile, loving the way Pet needed him. Really and truly desperate and wanting.

 

Taking out his own fiery cock, he pressed their members together.

Pet screeched from the heat, and slick contact. His voice died in his throat as Grillby moved, thrusting them together. His vision blanked, either that or he closed his eye, he wasn’t sure. The only thing that occupied his mind was touch. The hand about his wrists pinning him in place, the heat from the body above him, his breath against his bones, the hum of his soul in his chest.

And the fucking cock pulsing against his own.

“Hah-ah! Hah! G-Grillby! Ahn…Ah!” His tongue felt slippery in his mouth, searching for the other’s.

With a groan, Grillby leaned down and kissed him, wrestling tongues as he fucked them both into oblivion.

 

Pet, so full of magic and his soul burning so hard, came not long after they began. Hips jerking and a silent cry breaking from his teeth, his spine arched into Grillby’s heat.

Surprisingly, Grillby came as well.

“F-fuck! Pet!” He pumped them roughly, draining each other of cum to coat the skeleton’s bones.

 

 

After, Pet lie there, too exhausted to even move. His vision cut in and out, he could hear Grillby speaking to him, but he couldn’t make out the words. His mind buzzed and rang warmly, and soon he fell into darkness.

 

 


	3. Thoroughly Broken - Ch.2

 

 

Pet opened his eye and groaned.

 

His whole body ached.

But that was nothing new.

What was new was his surroundings. While it was dark in the room, like his old room…it was not a hard floor beneath him, but a soft bed. His old room had been cold, but he lay warm beneath a mound of blankets. 

Pet shut his eye with a sigh. He was glad to be here. Burying himself beneath the covers, he took in the warmth, softness, and comfort with pure relief. It was heaven here. It had to be.

 

 

Pet would have remained like that for an eternity, but his curiosity was peaked as he heard voices. Begrudgingly, he wormed his way out of the covers and poked his head out.

The voices were angry and loud.

People were arguing.

 

Pushing the covers aside, he felt surprise at the fact that he was clothed.

When had that happened?

Ignoring that for now, he threw his legs over the side of the bed to stand-

 

His legs felt like jelly from disuse, and they buckled under his weight. Reflexively, he put his stumps out to catch himself, and bit back a scream as they smacked into the floor. Tears pricked and fell from his socket as he pulled the sore stumps into his chest. The pain radiated from their blunt ends, and he swore under his breath.

The door opened at the sound of his fall. His eyes flashed up in panic.

 

 

In the door stood a fire monster.

But they were not Grillby.

 

Green, blazing fire licked up at the ceiling, the monster it belonged to looking furious. Clad in a school-child’s outfit, she stared down at him with disgust. “How dare you bring this thing here!”

Pet cringed from the words, well-aware of the tears that still were visible on his cheek from his stumble.

She scrunched her fiery face at him. “This is an atrocity, father.”

 

Father?

Grillby placed a hand on her shoulder and spun the other fire monster around to face him. “Fuku. This is none of your business.”

The green fire monster blazed with anger, her voice a hiss. “If that thing is going to be living here then it is my business!”

Growling, Grillby pointed accusingly at her. “You watch what you say to me, young lady!”

“UGH!” Fuku growled in anger and stomped off, her fire a raging inferno. It was a wonder the house never caught fire.

 

 

The sound of a door slamming made Pet wince.

Grillby looked after his apparent daughter, and sighed. His eyes fell onto the wretched pile of bones on the floor. Bending down, he scooped the skeleton up and put him back on the bed. “Don’t try to get up yet.” He remarked absently as he laid him down and began to pull the covers over him.

 

A strange movement in Pet’s middle made him gasp.

 

 

Grillby stopped what he was doing and looked at him with a raised brow. With an exasperated growl, he turned to him. “What?”

Pet brought his stumps to his middle, confused. What? Had he really felt-

Another thrum from his middle dispelled any doubts he had.

 

Grillby, having noticed his behavior, reached forward and gently moved his stumps away. Pulling up the hem of Pet’s shirt, they both gasped at what lie beneath.  

 A red magic barrier, encasing a small burning soul.

 

 

Pet recoiled from it.

His breath came as pants.

 

Hate poured from his soul. Insurmountable amounts of hate. He tried to keep hold of his raging soul, take back control of himself. These were not Pet’s feelings. These were left over from the other him. The old him that was no more. He pushed them away, and forced his arms back. Bones shaking with the effort, he finally let them rest upon the magic womb.

Anger, sadness, and happiness flowed through him with unbridled ferocity. Tears fell from his socket, for which of those emotions he had no clue.

 

 

The soul lit at his touch, and happiness won out.

Sniffling, he cradled the bulge gently, letting himself take in the small movements, the warmth of the soul inside him. He remembered feeling this.

His red eye looked up to see Grillby watching him with interest, as if unsure how he’d react.

 

Pet felt a tug at his mind. Felt a slew of memories rush forth. They lie at the tip of his consciousness, just within his reach. It was like a knock upon a door, all he had to do was let them in.

But was that what he wanted?

He knew in that moment that it was The Great Papyrus behind that door. Waiting to be let in. Waiting to take back what was his. He could feel vengeance in his own bones, and hatred, so much hatred. He could feel grief and loneliness. The other him was grasping for life, his only purpose to bring about the death of the monster before him.

 

 

Grillby took a tentative chance, and placed his hand upon his womb. He looked…scared…and excited. There was a warm to his expression that was anything but heat.

He looked so proud.

 

 

He turned away from the memories.

He blocked them out. He was not the other him. He was Pet. He was happy. He was safe. And he was not alone.

Let the other rot in his sorrows. Pet was content.

 

 

Pet had said the words before, and he’d say them again,

“I love you, Grillby.”

 

 


	4. Thoroughly Broken - Ch.3

 

 

The skeleton carefully grasped the rag in the sink between his stumps and brought it over to clean the counter. 

The patrons of the bar liked to watch him, sometimes laughing or making fun of him. They all hated his old self, The Great Papyrus, and apparently the thought of him working for Grillby was amusing.

 

But that wasn't who he was. Not anymore. 

 

Grillby had given him a new name, Pet, and he wore it with pride. It was special, and it made him feel like his own skeleton. A name that wasn't tied to a person that wasn’t him.

 

Pet liked working at Grillby's. It kept him busy, and he liked being busy. Being busy kept your mind off things. And besides, Grillby needed his cleaning expertise! 

 

Grillby was not too cleanly, apparently.

After regaining his strength and his ability to walk, he had been mortified at the state of Grillby’s house. Dust, dishes, and all manner of grime seemed to coat everything. When had he last cleaned?! He'd taken the task upon himself and started cleaning almost as soon he’d been helped out of the bedroom.

 

Seeing that Pet had a knack for cleaning and organizing, he had offered to let him work at Grillby's.

 

And of course Pet agreed! He could keep busy and spend all day with Grillby!

 

 

When he'd been introduced to the place it had been a dark, filthy mess. The dirtiness of the place had nagged at him when he first saw it, as if he was familiar with it...

So he made sure it was spotless! Tsking in annoyance when Grillby brought him through the door, he had begun cleaning and rearranging things immediately. Grillby seemed to like the changes he made, and let him do as he pleased.

Since that first day, that’s how things went. Grillby ran the bar, and Pet cleaned. It worked out well, and the work became lighter as the days dragged on, thankfully.

 

Pet took a moment to rest from his cleaning, and leaned against the wall. Bringing his arm up, he tenderly rubbed the, now much larger, warmly glowing bulge at his middle. He felt a lot more tired than normal lately, and he was beginning to fall behind on his upkeep of the bar, but he supposed it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

He smiled to himself as he felt the soul grow hot for a moment in excitement. The warmth was so strong he could feel it against his stubby wrists. A thrum of magic made him sigh, it was like a warm embrace to his weary soul. It was like the small thing knew he was exhausted.

He loved it very much.

He had missed it.

 

 

The small movements in his middle sometimes hurt, but he never wanted them to leave him again. He choked back a sob. He needed to forget those odd feelings! He didn't need to feel sad anymore! The soul was back where it belonged, safe inside him and well-loved. 

He had his child back.

Pet huffed happily, and gave the magic that held the small soul a pat. It blinked at him, almost as if it knew he was there. His own weak soul found the strength to warm and glow gently in response.

 

Things were a lot better now.

He was getting stronger by the day. He was able to eat more now, and his brittle bones were starting to regain their smoothness.

 

 

Groaning as he popped some strain from his bones, he pushed himself off the wall and took up his rag.

Time to get back to work.

 

He was content with his job, even if it was a little difficult for him. Lacking hands, he had to relearn how to grab things and find new ways of going about normal tasks.

But if anyone could do it, he could!

He was a hard worker, and he always tried his best. A lot of the patrons had made fun of him for a while, making remarks about him being “broken” and “off-his-rocker” but eventually they left him alone. Some even were nice to him.

Like the fish-lady that came in just to visit him every so often. She liked to bring him spaghetti, which was absolutely delicious! It was very kind of her to do so, and Pet enjoyed her company. He wished she’d come by more often, but things were always tense between her and Grillby, and her visits had become more and more short-lived.

Grillby didn’t make spaghetti, and while Pet knew how to cook it, he didn’t like to do so anymore. Grillby’s daughter, Fuku, didn’t like him eating meals with them…much less cooking for them. Her negative words always stung, and he tried to stay away from her.

He wouldn’t complain though, this was the happiest he’d ever been. And he wasn’t going to let this slip away from him.

 

 

One of the patrons spat on the part of the counter that he had just cleaned.

Pet frowned in distaste at the rather ugly fish-like monster. He made to go back to clean the spot again, when a hand wrapped around his stumps. A sharp fin dug into the tender wound, and Pet winced. Well aware of his inability to defend himself, Pet tried to soothe over whatever issue the patron had with him. “Sir, please, let go of me. I-is there something you need? Something I can get for you?”

 

The rude patron turned to one of the other usual’s, a red bird, sitting beside him and laughed humorlessly, "Hah hah! Look what Grillby's done to him! He’s placid as a puppy!" 

“Sir, let me go!” Pet tried to pull away, but the hand gripped tighter and brought him closer.

The bird sitting beside the fish holding him captive laughed at Pet’s struggling. "Ha! What? You aren't gonna skewer us?" His expression darkened, "Too bad Grillby didn't get to you before you busted up my goddamn leg." 

The ugly fish tugged harder, making Pet's middle press into the bar. He gasped, the bulge in his middle hurting from the rough action. "G-Grillby!"

 

"Sure has trained his bitch well hasn't he? Calling for his master, like a good little Pet." He laughed with his companion.

The other cocked his head at Pet's large middle. "How's your little bastard coming along, huh?"

 

 

Pet grit his teeth and tried again to pull himself away, but the fish monster was much stronger than him. 

 

He cried out as he was lifted up onto the bar, forced to sit on his knees at the mercy of the two patrons. "GRILLBY!" Where was he?! He wouldn't leave him! He wouldn't! He said he'd never leave him again! The fish, holding his stumps with one fin, he laughed and lifted his shirt with the other, exposing his red magic womb. "NO! DON'T!"

 

"There's the little shit!" The other patron cackled. 

Curious eyes around the bar looked over at them, fixing on him and his unborn child.

Pet whimpered and tried to move his arms down, embarrassed and afraid. The little flaming heart in his middle shivered and warmed, feeling his fear. "Leave me alone! Nyeh!" He squirmed as the sharp fin touched his middle. It felt much like a claw. 

 

 

A flash of a memory made him screech horribly loud. 

A claw on his middle digging into his womb, cracks forming in a little heart.

The heartbreaking sound of shattering.

Dust.

 

 

The monsters torturing him released him, terrified by his reaction. 

Pet continued to scream, trying to outcry the horrible images in his head.

His arms wrapped around his middle, his head craning until his neck hurt to make sure the small soul within him was safe.

 

 

"What's going on here?!" 

Pet whipped his skull up at the sound of Grillby's holler. Grillby strode in from the front door, his violet flame blazing in rage. "Pet, what the hell are you-?"

 

Upon seeing the tears streaming from his socket, and the patrons' fear at Grillby’s approach, he pieced the scene together. The bar suddenly became much brighter. His voice hissed like the sound of an untamed inferno, "Outside, both of you."

 

The patrons gaped at him, and, swallowing, the ugly fish stammered quickly, "We were only messing with him. Grillby, come on, we’re your best customers-”

“OUTSIDE.” Grillby roared, the heat from his outburst blistering-hot.

The two scrambled to leave, the red bird hobbling along on his crippled leg.

Grillby went forward to help Pet down off the counter. “Are you hurt?” His gaze focused on his middle as he pulled his shirt back down, and he pressed a hand to it in worry. Pet shook his skull in response, and wiped away the tear tracks from his socket. He was shaken, but thankfully the images were gone.

Satisfied with his answer, Grillby growled. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He stalked off to the door, the other patrons in the bar quickly turned their eyes away from the scene, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Though when the door slammed shut behind the bartender, everyone turned to the windows with curiosity.

 

 

Pet went back to cleaning. He didn’t need to watch.

The screams were enough.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Aren't you fucking glad I didn't do this horribly sadistic thing?
> 
> God, I still can't believe I wrote this.


End file.
